Flowers for a Ghost
by yourLastLove
Summary: "Love is like a beautiful flower which I may not touch, but whose fragrance makes the garden a place of delight just the same." - Helen Keller. Disclaimer. R&R Please! SLASH.
1. For You to Crawl

**A/N: Hello lovelies! I know I have a ton of fics going on right now, but this one is all blocked out and I'm excited to get it out there! *blush* Hope you like it! Tell me what you think?:) PS, I can't decide if I want to try my hand at an 'M' rated title – if you catch my drift – so opinions please? M or T... :S**

For You to Crawl

He was going to be late. Harvey had finally agreed to go to dinner with him, and he was going to be late. He checked his watch for the nth time since the light had turned red, mentally slapping himself for not having called a cab. Ray had of course driven Harvey – and not Mike since Harvey was meeting him after a meeting across town – and Mike had of course grabbed his bike and pedaled off into the dim twilight. It hadn't seemed like it would be an issue at the time, but now he was frustrated as hell with himself. For such a beautifully gifted brain, he was such an idiot sometimes. Not to mention that he was nervous as hell. Sure, it wasn't a date, but it wasn't exactly casual either. It had been three months since the first time Mike had _directly_ asked him to go to a restaurant after work. He was almost positive that the only reason the man had even agreed to go was to get Mike to stop nagging – although it might be his good mood in knowing that Louis wasn't riding their asses anymore – but he was still strangely hopeful. Not that Harvey had ever shown any interest in the past. More times than not he'd showed Mike that he might possibly "care" on some level or another – a word that still lacked definition between them.

7:48. He had twelve minutes to get there without being late by normal standards. Of course, by Harvey standards, he was already eighteen minutes late, but he'd choose to not linger on that. Still, there was absolutely no way in hell that he was going to arrive on time on the normal standard either – not that he didn't try. It was probably that he was so panicked over the thought of being late and ruining his long awaited dinner that he hadn't noticed that there were three unkempt men standing in his path. Although he swerved out of the way just in time, he'd already ridden right into the danger zone.

"Sorry!" He shouted over his shoulder as he continued pedaling up to the next light, hearing, but not listening to the angry hollers behind him. Instead, he focused his energy in swinging himself off of his bike before it came to a complete stop, and chaining it up to a post standing just a few meters away from the restaurant. 7:58. Somehow, he had made it. His guardian angels must have been watching out for him. He was smiling grandly, although panting heavily as well, as he hurried towards the elegant glass doors sat in the center of an elegant glass wall. He was barely a few steps away, arm already stretched out expectant for the handle, when he was suddenly on the ground on the wrong side of the sidewalk. He didn't understand what had happened at first; he sat there, dazed, deciding where he was before he noticed the men standing around him.

"You think you can run over my boy and get away with it, punk?" A gruff, angry voice that reminded him of Trevor's drug dealing days growled from above him.

"What? I – I didn't," he spluttered, trying to right himself, but was aggressively pulled to his feet, and then into the air before he could manage anything.

"You calling me a liar?"

"Well if the shoe fits." Why couldn't he just keep his damn mouth shut for once? He could almost see Harvey shaking his head in the back of his mind. Had the man taught him nothing? Aside from: do as I say, not as I do, of course.

The menacing rumble from the brute who was manhandling him told him that no, no he hadn't learnt a thing. He found himself both pleading that Harvey was seeing what was happening and coming to his rescue, but also that the man was very, _very_ far away from this seemingly violent trio. The two largest had thick beards and bandanas, crooked noses – probably from being broken too many times – and angry tattoos. It wasn't lost on him that the fists wrapped on his collar had the words "HATE" and "FUCK" written on the knuckles in a dying green colour. The other was smaller, less lean, not as tall, and had no hair at all – no eyebrows, no eyelashes, nothing. He too had multiple tattoos that acted as sleeves, but they were also visible across his chest where they read "GOD IS GLORY" and strange mark he didn't recognize under his eye, that somewhat resembled a bullet. The strangest thing about this man though, was that one ear was pierced crudely, and the other ear was completely missing.

He wasn't at all surprised to find himself in an alley, slammed against an old rusted and very slimy dumpster. He also wasn't surprised that he was being threatened by all three men who had gathered in a very tight triangle around him, leaving him absolutely no room to move or breathe. Not that he wanted to breathe; between the dumpster and the roughed up men, the smell wasn't all too appealing.

"Now, you've given my friend some emotional trauma from being hit with your little girl bike over there." The second bearded man said, breath curling around Mike's nose uncomfortably. "You'd better pay up to pay for some therapy, boy." They sniggered as he reached for Mike's jacket.

"I don't have anything on me." He deadpanned, seeming more bored than anything, although his heart was racing a mile a minute in his chest.

There was a heavy banging sound as a fist collided with Mike's stomach, knocking him backward into the steel wall behind him with force enough that dust rose up from beneath the thing. He coughed, hunching over as the fist removed itself, and gasped for air that wouldn't come.

"Better pay up," the bald man snarled, voice smooth and ominous; a telltale of the horrible things he wouldn't mind doing to his newest victim.

Mike was too busy searching for oxygen to respond, and was met with a knee to the groin as punishment. The scream that wouldn't form was caught in his throat, strangling him from his new place on the cold damp concrete. Or for all he knew, it was the heavy hands of one of the men taking away any chances of ever breathing again. For a second, a voice in his head scolded him once more not hailing a cab, but the voice was lost and forgotten when a weighty boot collided with the side of his ribs. He was seeing large white spots now, coating his vision and kindly replacing the loutish faces above him. They were still speaking, but he didn't know what they were saying now. He was just trying to focus his mind to think of something better – anything better – to distract him from the pain of not breathing, and this new, searing pain that seemed to radiate from everywhere all at once. The last thing he was before everything went dark was Harvey smiling at him, an amused twinkle in his coffee coloured eyes.

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed it! You can expect another chapter to follow soon! But for now, penny for your thoughts?:)**


	2. Comfort When It's Cold

Comfort When It's Cold

The light streamed in through the window – when was he going to invest in some blinds? – and blinded Mike behind his closed lids, illuminating them with an angry red colour. But since when was it so bright out before his alarm went off? Suddenly panicked, he shot upright in bed, groaning as his eyes struggled to flutter open against the too-bright sun. He flung his legs over the side of the bed as his eyes still tried to open, but was met by hard surface instead of a short drop to hardwood. What...

Oh. He was lying in an alley. That wasn't concerning at all... But suddenly it was all rushing back, and an all knew panic took over. He was mugged last night. Last night? God, he hoped so. He reached into his pocket for his phone – missing. Shit. He pulled himself up quickly, using the wall for support, before checking himself over for injuries. To his surprise, nothing hurt. Shouldn't something have hurt? Surely, after they'd knocked him out and left him there all night, he'd at least be _sore_ from the concrete bed. But no, he felt fine. More than fine actually. Aside from the sick feeling in his gut... Harvey was going to kill him. Or worse, fire him.

It was with no great stalling that he made it to Pearson Specter Litt – actually, it was record timing, despite not having his bike (which too had been stolen) and not hailing a cab either. He was over an hour late for work – three hours actually – but he was sure Harvey wouldn't be too mad once he explained. If he let him explain that is...

He ran through the firm in a very unprofessional manner, all the way to Harvey's office, not giving Donna the chance to stop him as he barged into his boss' office.

"Harvey, I'm _so_ sorry, I can explain everything, I swear, I didn't mean to-" He stopped. Harvey was staring at him incredulously.

"I thought you were murdered or something." Harvey said when it was clear that Mike wasn't going to say anything further.

The associate – well, hopefully he still had a job at all – gave a nervous laugh, shifting on his feet.

"Mike?" His suspicion was made clear by his hardened eyes and tight pressed lips.

"I made it to dinner on time last night... but I got jumped right outside." Damn, was Harvey even going to believe him? The man seemed to look him over, before getting up and stalking toward him.

Oh shit, Harvey was pissed. "Mugged, you say?"

"Yeah." He gulped, cowering slightly from the look of pure hate he had somehow inspired on the other's face.

"Did you go to the police?"

"And have them show me a bunch of pictures of guys they'll never find? No thanks."

"Did you go to the hospital?"

"No, I came straight here." The tension was overwhelming.

Harvey appeared to have grown three feet as he hovered in front of him, radiating tendrils of absolute rage. "What do you mean you came _straight here_?"

My gulped again. "I woke up in the alley this morning, and ran here. I thought-"

The man in front of him let out a threatening growl as he grabbed Mike at the back of his collar and heaved him from the office and down the hall, all but throwing him into the men's washroom. After it was apparent that they were alone, the intimidating Harvey that Mike wasn't overly fond of locked the door with a snap, and turned on his associate once more, backing him into the sink.

"Are you hurt?"

"What?"

"Are you _hurt_, Mike?" He ground out, tugging his tie from around his neck as gently as he could in his anger – although to Mike is seemed a little rough. "You woke up in an alley this morning and didn't seek medical attention. I'm asking you if you're _hurt_."

Mike thought about this. Now that the adrenaline had begun to wear off, he did feel a slight pinch in his side. Harvey seemed to catch this and began tugging off his clothes.

"Hey, hey! What are you doing?!"

"Checking you for injuries."

He made to protest, but the dangerous look he received shut him up quickly. It took seconds for him to be naked from the waist up, and Harvey looked none too pleased.

"You need a doctor."

"What? No I don't, I'm fine."

"You have a _tear_ in your side, Mike."

And so there was... On his ribs, there was a long slit that ran around from his back to his front, but it wasn't bleeding and it wasn't really bothering him. "It's just a scratch." He insisted, prodding at the wound with his index finger.

Harvey slapped his hand away. "You need a doctor." He helped Mike back into his shirt, and threw him his jacket off the counter to put on. "Let's go."

"Harvey, I'm fine, I swear."

"No."

"Listen, I'll even work in your office, you can watch me the whole time."

"You think I'm going to let you _work_ today?" The fury was back and building quickly. Mike decided to bring the situation down a notch before he got himself punched. Again.

"Harvey, I promise you. I feel fine. I'd like to just sit down and get to work."

They stared at each other for what felt like hours, neither backing down from their dominating staring contest. Eventually, Harvey broke with a sigh, taking the few steps it took to have Mike pressing himself back into the sinks. "Fine." He muttered quietly, picking up the silk tie he'd bought Mike as a birthday gift months ago – the one that made his eyes to that thing. "But you'll stay in my office."

"Deal." Mike affirmed, just as quietly, and let his tie be tied for him. He found himself holding his breath then, not trusting that at their current proximity that his breathing wouldn't set his ears on fire with how loud it probably was.

Harvey slung the fabric around his fingers expertly, but still much, _much_ slower than usual. His focus seemed to be firmer than Mike was used to seeing. When had he gotten so close? He could feel his breath dancing across his lips as his tie was secured. Once it was to standard, Harvey gave it a pat, but then didn't let go. He stood there, staring at the tie with a blank look on his face.

"Harvey?"

Their noses brushed as the man looked up, staring intently at him. Mike was too lost in the contact to respond. It would seem though, that so was Harvey, because suddenly he was leaning in and his lips were pressed to his associate's. It ended too quickly though, with Harvey pulling barely away and staring back down, unseeing. He refused to look up, praying to god that he could lose his hearing before Mike said whatever it was that he was about to say. He could almost hear the words before they'd emerged from between his still parted lips. But then, none came. Instead, the words were replaced by lips again as Mike took a courageous step forward and twisted his fingers with Harvey's.

"You could have died." Harvey whispered into the kiss, not willing to break the much needed contact.

"I didn't." He continued the kiss, a soft, calculated pace that had them both reeling and soaring with heady nervousness.


	3. Whirlwind

Whirlwind

"Do you want water?"

"No."

"Are you hungry?"

"No. We just had lunch."

"Right." He went back to his work. "Are you tired at all? We can take a break."

"Harvey!" Mike didn't think he'd ever been so irritated by the lawyer in his life. It had been going on for hours – this weird doting over the rookie thing – it was seriously grating on his nerves. At first it had been cute, he'd smiled and reassured the lawyer every time he had a concern, but eventually, enough was enough. They were four hours into work and Mike was ready to throw something. "Harvey," He said softer this time, trying to remedy the hurt that flashed ever so quickly over his boss' face. "I'm fine. I promise you. Everything's ok." He tried to be calm. He really did. But Donna had been sending these concerned glances into the office since he'd arrived. "Donna! Would you please?" He shouted towards the door, and she looked away quickly, back to her computer where she began furiously typing in that way only Donna can.

"Don't take it out on her, she cares about you too." Harvey muttered, circling something on one of his pages.

"I'm sorry," Mike sighed. "Let's just hurry this up. Maybe call it a night early?" He had to stifle a groan at what Harvey must have thought was an act of neediness. _That's not why I want to leave._ He was fine. Seriously. Even the pinching in his side had gotten better, and he hadn't even taken an Advil! Quickly, he thought up a way to both distract Harvey from thinking Mike needed an ambulance, and also to compliment the events from earlier that day – which by the way, would not stop replaying in his head over and over again. "Maybe we could grab dinner?"

Harvey couldn't hide the way his face lit up at the thought if he tried. "Dinner? Where?"

"I dunno," Mike shifted in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable with the knowledge of how different the other man's dining tastes were from his. Not to mention that the last time he'd tried to _go for dinner_ he was mugged. "Uh, maybe we should just order in." He almost thought he saw a wicked glint flicker through Harvey's eyes, but if he had, it was quickly covered up by the same adoring concern he'd been showing the kid all day.

"Are you sure you don't want something to drink?"

"Oh I want something to drink all right." He muttered his response, leaning forward to pour himself a glass of Harvey's scotch – something he noted would have normally gotten him a smack upside the head. "Got anything stronger than this?"

Harvey ignored the joke. "Is that a good idea, Mike? What if you have a..." He trailed off, looking guiltily back at his papers.

"A what, Harvey? A concussion? I don't have a concussion. Or anything else for that matter." But the least he could do was calm the man's nerves. Hating himself for it, he pushed the glass away and went back to his papers.

The day passed by quickly, mostly due to the fact that no one had come looking for him – not even Louis. He probably had Donna to thank for that. It was six thirty by the time they were ready to leave the office, pulling on their jackets and tucking a few papers into their briefcases. Well, Harvey's briefcase...

"Goodnight, Donna." Harvey smiled to her as he passed her desk where she was having a heated conversation with Norma. She looked up upon hearing his voice and with a thin lipped smile, she bid him goodnight.

"Night, Donna. Norma. See you tomorrow." Huh. She must still be mad at him. She turned back to Norma, who was waving at them nearly hysterically.

"Ready to go?" Harvey asked Mike as they passed by the bullpen, nodding towards his desk.

"Yeah, everything important was stolen. I didn't have any documents with me though, so we're safe there!" He put a fist up for props, but was met with an angry glare. Quickly, he dropped his hand back to his side and climbed into the elevator behind his boss.

"Are you feeling ok?"

"Yes?"

"Good." Mike was about to be annoyed – again – by the question, but suddenly he was backed into the wall and being kissed hard, and any trace of annoyance that was there a second ago, was long gone.

When Harvey finally pulled away, as the elevator was opening on the twenty-third floor, Mike grabbed onto the front of his jacket and slid himself against him, not caring who saw. Harvey leaned back against the wall lamely, fidgeting with the bottom of Mike's suit jacket.

For the entire time they stood on the street, waiting for a cab, and then once they were in a cab, and even on the way up to Harvey's condo, Mike refused to let go of Harvey. He didn't know what it was – maybe that he'd waited so long for _something _that once he'd attained it, he was determined to not let it go for a second. Fortunately, Harvey seemed to have the same idea. The older man's arm was wrapped securely around the younger's waist as they climbed out of the glass elevator and walked into the kitchen. He made sure to keep them attached as he set down his briefcase, and then turned to fully face his newest accessory and kissed him until they were breathless.

"You're amazing." Mike cooed when Harvey finally pulled away to order dinner.

"I know." He chuckled at Mike's groan, and watched him from the island while the kid slumped down on one of his expensive leather couches. "Hey, do you want a change of clothes or something? Shower? Anything you want, Mike, just tell me." He realized his poor associate was still in his – although they looked perfectly undamaged – clothing from the day before.

"Yeah, maybe later." And then he was quiet as Harvey spoke quickly into the phone.

"It's late." Mike said once they'd eaten their sushi and talked and joked around until almost midnight.

"We don't have to work tomorrow."

"Yeah I know it's just..." Harvey was silent as he waited for Mike to continue. He didn't. Instead he looked shyly down at his hands, folded nicely in his lap.

"Why don't you stay here?" He suggested carefully, gouging Mike's face for his reaction. "I'm still concerned over your wellbeing." He added when the kid blushed furiously.

"Yeah, ok." He conceded, and let himself he directed to the bedroom. Suddenly, all shyness seemed to evaporate. "So, you wanna?" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Harvey laughed, and kissed him once, but pulled back and pushed him in the direction of the washroom. "Not tonight. You're concussed."

"No I'm not!" Mike shouted through the closing door.

He was surprised at how easy it could be. Caring while other people knew. Mostly, he was surprised at how easily Mike fit into his arms when they finally got under the covers and settled in. Of course, trust Mike to be a cuddler. Not that Harvey minded that in the slightest. He found himself burying his face in the other's neck and kissing him gently. Somehow, it was just so easy to be with him.

"You're amazing." Harvey parroted the words from earlier. Mike hummed against his cheek, drawing messy circles up and around Harvey's back. "I'm sorry I took so long."

The finger stopped. "What?" Mike was craning his head back, trying to see Harvey's expression in the darkness.

"To go to dinner with you."

"Harvey," Mike settled back down with a thump, tugging the man closer into his embrace. "If you're getting sentimental because I got mugged, stop it."

Harvey sighed, but let himself be comforted. Slowly, they both drifted off to sleep.

It was still dark out when Harvey's phone started blaring an obnoxious ringtone. Mike groaned and rolled to the other side of the bed while Harvey snatched it up quickly and left the room, tugging the door closed quietly behind him.

"Hello?" His voice was raspy from sleep. Clicking on lights on his way to the kitchen, he noted the 3 15 on the stove. _Goddamn it._

"Hello, Mr Specter?"

"Speaking?"

"Hello, Mr Specter. This is Doctor Trent from Presbyterian Hospital; I hope I haven't woken you."

Harvey grunted, knowing that was a lie. Why would Presbyterian be calling him? Suddenly, he was awake and feeling sick.

"I'm calling to tell you that your employee, Michael Ross, is in our care. As his medical proxy, we require that you come down as soon as possible."

What? "No, that's not possible..."

"Mr Specter, I can't tell you anything over the phone. I just need you to come in quickly. When you're here, I can tell you everything and answer any questions you may have. If you choose to wait until morning, Doctor Tang will be happy to speak with you instead." His voice sounded authoritative, he clearly had been doing this a long time and was not going to take any bullshit from Harvey. Not that he was in any state to give it. He was confused as hell.

"I'll be right there." He confirmed, hanging up his phone, and then staring at it in confusion. He couldn't help the chill that ran down his spine as he made his way back to the bedroom. He took a long breath the steady himself as he grasped the door handle, and then with all the bravery he could muster – at that time of night, his imagination had begun to go wild – he put the door open roughly and stepped into the room. He felt the blood drain from his face and his heart stutter in his chest. The bed was empty. What the hell...

But then the door across the room opened, letting light from the washroom flood a section of the room for a second until it clicked off, and then Mike was stumbling back into bed looking like a zombie.

Harvey let out the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, and crossed the room. "Sorry, emergency work thing. Stay here, get some sleep. I'll be back before you wake up." He kissed Mike's forehead chastely, and backed up, watching Mike mumble and roll over, already half asleep.

What the hell was going on?


	4. Details in the Fabric

Details in the Fabric

After he's dressed, Harvey stands and stares at Mike's sleeping form for longer than he knows he should. He could have been at the hospital already. He could have already solved the strange mystery that has his nerves tingling anxiously. Eventually, he breaks himself away, and jumps in the first cab he finds. There isn't a lot of competition to grab a cabby's attention at this ghastly hour.

He's twitchy the entire ride. He barely responds to the driver when he speaks to him, and continuously shifts in his seat, unable to sit still. He steals himself when they arrive, and then with faux-confidence, steps into the hospital and walks straight to the front desk.

"Harvey Specter, here for Michael Ross." He tells the kind looking ginger haired man seated behind the desk.

The man looks up with a smile. How can anyone look so happy at this time of night? "Room 224 A." He tells him, but his smile falters a little, stopping Harvey from turning to find the room. "You might want to speak to the doctor before you go in."

Harvey inhales deeply, trying to calm himself before he can reply. "Why?" He hopes he sounds less panicked than he feels – despite knowing that Mike is safe, tucked comfortably in his bed awaiting his return.

"If you go to the waiting room on the second floor, I can have the doctor come see you there."

Harvey looks confused, possibly more confused than he's ever felt – and that's saying something, especially after the phone call he'd received earlier that night – but nods and thanks the man before going in search of the elevators. He finds them easily, and within minutes, finds himself edgy and on the second floor of Presbyterian hospital, probably the last place on his list of places he wants to be. He planned on going to the waiting room to wait for the doctor like he was told, he really did, but as he walked down the hall, the butterflies in his stomach were slowly turning into bats, and he quickened his pace and made a beeline to room 224 A. He stopped himself before he was completely in, heart hammering wildly in his chest when he saw the lower body of a man on the bed, covered up by a blanket. He briskly stepped back out into the hall, leaned against the wall, and tried to control his breathing. He didn't know why he was so nervous. He would probably walk in, say there was some mistake, this isn't Mike, and leave. No, that's definitely what would happen. But he couldn't help the sick feeling he felt while he thought about what he might see.

"Mr Specter?" A voice called from down the hallway. Harvey turned to see a man in a lab coat walking towards him, stethoscope swinging idly around his neck. "I thought I might find you here." The doctor smiled and put his hand out in greeting. "I'm Doctor Trent, Mr Ross' doctor during his stay here. Have you been inside yet?" Harvey didn't respond, only shook his head and tried to not pass out. "Right, well before we do, let me tell you a bit about what's going on with your..."

Harvey coughed uncomfortably. "Employee. Mr Ross is my personal associate."

Dr Trent nodded. "Alright, well, Mr Ross was found on 77th street in an alley. It looks like a mugging." Harvey felt himself go cold and his face pale considerably. This story was sounding all too familiar. "He was found unconscious, and despite out best efforts, we couldn't wake him. He was beaten pretty bad and is suffering from moderate head trauma. We had to go in and surgically set his ribs." Images of the scar on Mike's side flashed through his mind and suddenly he felt as though he was going to be sick. "But Mr Specter, if you'd like to sit down before I continue...?" He waited until Harvey shook his head again, and with a sigh, continued. "As Mr Ross' medical proxy, we have a difficult decision for you to make." Harvey swallowed, waiting for the doctor to spit it out. "We thought Mr Ross had slipped into a coma, but minutes later he ended up on line support." If Harvey's face could pale any further, it just did. Was he breathing? He should remember to breathe. "We need you to make the decision to either keep him alive, or to pull the plug."

Harvey stopped breathing. Again? Either way, he wasn't breathing now. He couldn't. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't move, he couldn't stop staring through the doctor, and he couldn't escape the absolutely terrified feelings engulfing him.

"Mr Specter, would you like to see him?" When he didn't respond, the doctor placed a hand on his shoulder and walked him into the room towards the chair beside Mike's bed.

Mike. Harvey felt the world spinning around him, and felt a mask being pressed to his face. "Harvey, listen to me now," a very far off voice was saying. "Harvey, I need you to focus." He was cold. Really cold. He wanted to just go back home and climb into bed beside Mike. Except he couldn't, because Mike was here in the hospital bed. Suddenly he was gasping and holding the mask on himself. "That's it, Harvey, deep breaths." A nurse was draping a blanket over him, stepping around the doctor to help him get comfortably beneath it. "What your feeling is completely normal. Just take deep breaths."

He complied. Sucking in the oxygen greedily. He didn't remember asking for one, but a bin was suddenly pressed against his chest and he was heaving into it. When he could breathe again, he sat himself back in the chair and tried to think logically. What the hell was going on? How was Mike here? Were there two of them? Was this a long lost brother of his? Perhaps he'd been sleeping next to an imposter. His stomach curled again and he grabbed for the bin, though he apparently didn't need it this time.

"You don't have to decide now, Mr Specter. Whenever you're ready." The doctor patted his arm and turned to talk to the nurse.

They spoke to him, and he thinks he asked to be alone, and suddenly he was. Carefully, as if the Mike in the bed might suddenly attack him, he gets up and walks toward him. When he's standing at the head of the bed, staring down at the beaten and bruised form, his heart starts to shatter in his chest. "God, Mike," he whispered letting his fingers run through what little hair wasn't covered by bandages. He didn't know what was going on, but he knew he wanted this Mike – whoever he was – to wake up and tuck himself safely into Harvey's arms.

Abruptly, he has to get out of there. He has to get home to Mike. Or... to see if Mike is really there. Panic is flooding him again, and he finds himself running through the halls, ignoring the angry shouts from nurses telling him to 'walk'. He makes it home in record time, having paid off the driver the speed horrendously the entire way, and he's bursting into his apartment breathing rapidly. He bursts into his room before he can think about it, and choked back a sob when he sees Mike sprawled out on the bed, covers pooled around his knees. With shaking hands, Harvey undoes his jacket and lets it slip unceremoniously to the floor. He's at the bed in seconds, reaching out tentatively to touch Mike's back, and then curling himself against him with a sigh.

Mike wakes slightly at the contact, and shifts himself to lie in the protective circle of Harvey's arms, nuzzling into his chest before returning to unconsciousness. Unfortunately, Harvey can't manage the same.

Slowly, morning arrived, and reluctantly, Harvey let's Mike sit up, away from the now too warm embrace. Rubbing at his eyes with his fists, he mumbles in a still sleepy voice, "How was your work thing?

"Fine." He says in a clipped tone, but makes up for it quickly with a peck on the lips.

"Aren't you tired?"

"Nope." He tugs Mike on top of him, suddenly desperate for his touch. He'd had such an emotionally draining night; he just needed to feel whatever inch of Mike he could get his hands on.

"Harvey," Mike mumbled against fervent lips, not quite breaking the contact. Harvey grunted and pulled him down harder before rolling them so he was resting his full weight on top of his associate. Mike gave in, conceding to the frenzied kiss, and wrapped his arms around Harvey's waist, tickling his fingers up his back beneath his shirt.

Eventually, and not without protest from the man beneath him, Harvey pulled himself away. "Why don't you take the day off?" It sounded more like a demand than a question.

Mike rolled his eyes. "Harvey, if this is about the other night,"

"Please?" It came out quicker and sounded more desperate than he liked. "Humor me, Mike. Take the day. You deserve one anyways." He smirked before kissing him fully again, slinking his arms beneath him and holding on tight.

"Fine, will you stay with me?" Mike chuckled and nipped at the older man's lips.

Harvey groaned. "No I have a busy day ahead of me." He rested their foreheads together while he strained to regain his breath. "But I won't be in the office much, so you wouldn't see me anyways." He kissed his nose before getting up to change into an elegant suit.

Mike pouted, but it went unseen by the other lawyer.

"So," Harvey started while he tied his tie, not turning around to face the other. "Would it be possible to get a little more detail about the other night?"

SUITS

Harvey's dragging Donna into his office before she has time to so much as say good morning. The door is closed, and the blinds are being yanked across the glass walls, and then Harvey is dragging a protesting redhead toward the couch.

"Ok, normally I'd make jokes, but what the hell is going on?"

"Donna, I – Mike – I don't..." She slid closer to him when his hands tugged at his hair in frustration. What was he supposed to say? She wouldn't believe the truth.

"Harvey, relax, it's ok." She tugged his hands down and forced his panicked eyes to meet hers. She wrapped him in a tight hug, not letting go until his breathing calmed – mostly – and then settled for taking his hands. "What happened?"

"It's Mike." He started, struggling to find words. He thanked her with a squeeze of his hands for not pressing the matter. He needed to think. "He stayed at my place last night." She raised an eyebrow, but he ignored it. "But then I got called to the hospital, because Mike got mugged and as his medical proxy I have to decide whether or not to pull the plug."

"Oh my god, Harvey," Donna wrapped her arms around him again, shaking now just as bad as he was.

"You don't understand." He nearly sobbed yet again. He wished he could just pull it together, but his brain was a little too busy frying itself with the absurdity of the situation. "He's still at my place."

"What?" She pulled back slightly, eyeliner smudged and eyes red rimmed.

"There's two of him."

"Harvey..."

"He told me what happened, Donna. In detail! I couldn't have known that." He knew what she was thinking, and it was clear that she couldn't be convinced otherwise.

"Harvey, that's not possible..."

"But it's true!" He pulled away from her completely, standing up to pace the room. "He's there right now, I told him to take a day off."

With a sad smile, his secretary got up to stand in front of him, putting a hand on either forearm. "Harvey, I know this is a shock," she started, but he shook her off.

"Cancel all my meetings for today."

"Where are you going?"

"Home to Mike."

_A/N: Whaaaat? This is absurd! What do you think is going on? Ugh, can you imagine?_


	5. Do You See Me

Do You See Me

"Ok."

"Ok?"

Harvey took a deep breath before continuing. They were sitting at the island, each on an overpriced bar stool, going over discovery. "There something you need to see."

"Ok." Mike leaned over in his seat to look at the papers in his boss' hand, which Harvey dropped with a huff.

"Not the discovery."

"Ok, then what?" Mike's eyebrows were pulled together, confusion written all over his face.

Harvey ran a hand from his forehead to chin, staring nervously ahead before he nodded, grabbed Mike's hand, and hulled him up and out the door.

"Where are we going?"

"I... Do you have a brother?" The elevator seemed to be moving way too fast. Couldn't it take it's time?

"No, you know I'm an only child."

Harvey nodded, tightening his fingers around Mike's.

"Harvey, what's going on?"

"I didn't go to see a client the other night." He shouldn't have been surprised by the way Mike froze beside him when he blurted that out. It was obvious what his first thought would be. "I got a call from the hospital." He really wasn't making anything better, he knew, but who could blame him? It wasn't everyday something like this happened, and Harvey Specter – the king of dealing with things – could very simply just not deal. "They said you were in critical condition after a mugging gone wrong."

"That's to say a mugging ever goes right?"

"Shut up." He snapped, but it held no real authority; he sounded weak, frightened, and Mike turned to slide his other arm around him and hug him tightly before the elevator doors opened. Harvey took a moment to just hold him, breathe him in, and remind himself that everything was alright – Mike was here, with him, alive and well. "So I went to the hospital and... you were there."

Mike didn't respond for a while. He just stayed inside the other's arms even when the doors closed again. "What do you mean?" He prompted eventually, when it became clear that Harvey wasn't going to be able to continue the story on his own.

"I mean _you were there_." He ground out, unable to hide his frustration. He was freaking out and he knew it. "You were in the hospital bed, all patched up, unconscious, and on goddamn life support, Mike." The embrace quickly became almost too bright, and the one anxiously soft words became a loud, trembling mess in Mike's ear.

After a moment, Mike replied, "That doesn't make sense. The guy was beat up, are you sure he didn't just resemble me?"

Tears were threatening, but the lawyer was able to hold onto what bit of sanity he had left. "I know you, Mike."

"And that's where we're going?" He pulled away, pressing the door open button and keeping an arm securely around the other's waist in a protective gesture. The man was falling apart beside him.

Harvey nodded feverishly, unable to say anything more, and surprised, frankly, that he'd made it that far in his explanation. But Mike was with him, and knowing that, he could do anything.

SUITS

"Ok."

"Ok?"

Mike took a deep breath before continuing. "He looks exactly like me." He ghosted a hand over the patients jaw, unable to help himself, but afraid to really touch him at the same time. "This is totally freakin' weird."

The doctor came in then, and seemed pleasantly surprised to see them there. "Mr Specter, how are you?"

"I'm not really sure how to answer that, Doctor Trent."

The doctor nodded, tucking a stray strand of greying black hair behind his ear. "Did you have any questions for me?"

"Progress?" He sounded like he was trying to sound indifferent, and it was blatantly obvious to all of them – including himself – that he was completely shaken.

"Not much, I'm afraid. He's officially a coma patient, and although we've stopped the bleeding in his brain and are doing what we can, it's mostly just up to him now." He seemed apologetic enough. Harvey supposed this is where most people would yell at him, tell him to do more, and be completely in denial. Harvey settled for a compliant nod. "I'm sorry to ask you this, but have you come to a decision?"

Mike shot him a look, and immediately Harvey regretted leaving details out. Not that it had been the main burden on his mind. In fact, he'd completely forgotten about it once he arrived back at the apartment. "Right." He muttered. "Can you give us a moment?"

The doctor smiled reassuringly, and glanced between the lawyer and his bed ridden employee before leaving the room.

"Are you ok?"

"Ok? Am I ok? What decision are you supposed to make?"

"Whether or not to pull the plug. The report says his chances of waking up are slim to none, that he's made absolutely no progress, and can't be taken off life support."

"You don't even know him!"

"You think I don't know that?" They were shouting at each other now. Why were they shouting? Harvey sighed again, and put his arms out to Mike, letting him decide whether or not he was ready to calm down and accept comfort – really it was mostly Harvey who needed comforting, but he wasn't about to admit that. Mike sighed as well, and stepped forward to settle back into Harvey's arms, feeling safer than he had since they walked through the front door. There was just something about the older man that could make everything that was wrong in the world right.

When the doctor came back in – they really had no idea how long he'd been gone for, they were so lost in each other – they stepped apart to greet him. The doctor had barely been in the room for more than three seconds when Harvey's eyes went wide and the air left him. He was choking, his insides were running in circles inside of him, and his blood ran a sub zero temperature. Mike didn't look to be doing any better. The doctor on the other hand, who had just walked through Mike like he wasn't even there, was standing behind Harvey, checking the sleeping Mike over again.

"Mr Specter?"

He couldn't respond. He was staring – no, _blanching_ – and Mike, who had stepped up beside the doctor with a look of absolute bewilderment and stretched his arm out, and through the doctor. Harvey was going to be sick. "Give him more time. I've gotta go." And then he was out of the room, Mike chasing after him and wrapping himself around Harvey's arm the second he caught up.

"Harvey-" He choked out. Was the doctor a ghost? Had they just been speaking to a ghost? But then a nurse carrying a stack of papers stepping into him, and the papers were sent scattered across the floor.

Immediately – shock put away for the moment – Harvey and Mike both bent down to assist her in collecting the documents. She thanked Harvey as he handed her the papers, apologizing for her clumsiness, and snatching at the papers in Mike's hand, saying something about _the damn fans_ _blowing too hard_.

"Harvey?" Mike asked casually, but with a slightly higher pitch than usual.

"Yeah?" They were standing, waiting for the elevators in the hallways that smelled both sterile and diseased at the same time.

"How come you're the only person I can touch?"

Harvey's lips formed a tight, thin line, and he grabbed Mike's hand roughly, squeezing so tight it was painful but not caring in the slightest. "Let's go."


	6. To Love a Ghost

_A/N: It's been so long! I'm sorry! So here's a chapter for you. I should be posting more – since I'm no longer working seven days a week… but I still have classes so… And also! Updates. I will probably be moving to ao3 (if anyone has any opinions or insight into that please do message me…) and ALSO, I've got a new story in the making! Yes, I know I haven't finished the others, but don't you worry. And I think I might be trying my hand at a smuttier story for that too…_

To Love a Ghost

"Well you could always-"

"Tried that."

"Well what about-"

"That too."

"How do you always know what I'm going to say?"

"I know you, Mike." Harvey grins, flashing a quick, seductive, glance at the associate across from him.

"You know, sometimes I think you don't actually know what I'm thinking, but you're arrogant enough to assume you've already done it."

"You love me anyways."

He hadn't expected the words to hold such an emotion effect on the room. But Mike's stirring in his seat, fixing his papers in his lap, and clearing his throat.

"Mike?"

"No, you're right." He nods, not looking up.

"Mike."

"It's fine, Harvey. Just go back to work."

With a sigh, Harvey complies. He knows better than to push when Mike is avoiding something. The kid used to be so good at communicating with him, but recently he's been getting more and more irritated by repeat questions. Not that Harvey can blame him.

"Morning, Sunshine." A sassy voice calls from the doorway. And there she is - the main source of tension that Mike's been building up – swinging her hips as she takes strides like a runway model in her seductive stiletto heels.

"Morning, Donna." Harvey barely pays her a look as she walks toward him, knowing what was coming – like every day recently.

"How's Mike doing?" She sits down where Mike had been, before he quickly got up and out of the way. He doesn't like when people go through him.

"You tell me." He grunts, staring down at the papers he barely notices. He wants her to leave. He wants to be alone with Mike. It's the usual now. He barely speaks to anyone else unless it's work related. Even then, he'd rather just deal with it with Mike.

"Harvey, you have to go see him." She sobered, smile a little less bright, eyes a little more concerned. "It's been over a month. You know they say that coma patients know when you're there. He needs to know he's not alone."

"He knows."

"Harvey-"

"Donna, I don't want to hear it!" Finally, he loses it. Normally he'd feel guilty by this point, having yelled at her, but the pressure he's feeling is a first around his heart, and a cement block pressing down on his lungs. He needs her out. "You work for me, and _work _is exactly what you should be doing."

She nods, pursing her lips, and straightens her skirt as she stands. "Fine, Harvey. I'll let this go. But it's only because you and I both know that you know I'm right."

He hangs his head in his hands as she walks past him, unable to deal with the strange reality – the one that seems so unreal to him as of late – she brings with her. Mike's closed the blinds already – a patented tradition by this point – like he does every time someone harasses Harvey about Mike's condition, and he's walked back and is pulling Harvey up and onto the couch with him. They don't speak. They don't need to. Everything that could be said has been, time and time again. Just feeling each other is enough. Knowing the other is there.

"You know, this can't go on forever."

"Shut up, Mike."

"I'm just saying, Harvey. We have no leads. We don't know where this is going."

"Mike." His tone is a warning, Mike knows, but he's too riled up by his anxiety to stop himself.

"I don't think I'm ever going to get back in my body. Even lying down inside of myself didn't work. Harvey, there isn't anything to do at this point."

"Mike!" He snaps. "That's enough!"

Mike bites his lip, unable to reign over his emotions like Harvey seems to do so easily. He concedes though, biting his lip, thoroughly shutting himself up, and tucks himself beneath Harvey's chin, holding onto the other man for dear life.

"You trust me don't you?"

"This isn't a matter of trust." Mike mutters, relaxing into Harvey's chest as he tries to get a grip on himself.

"Do you?"

"Yes, Harvey. I trust you."

"Then trust that I'll find a way to fix this."

Mike nods, unsure whether it's in agreement or to get Harvey to just let it go – as hypocritical as that is. Harvey's absolute blind faith hurts him the most in this situation. It's bad enough that he has a sense of overwhelming and impending doom hanging over him at all times. But to know that Harvey is setting himself up completely to get his soul crushed…

"Come on." Mike looks up quizzically at his boss when he moves him off his lap and stands. "We're going home."

"We're not finished with the-"

"I know." His voice softens, and Mike melts. How can he ever say no to Harvey when he does things like this? "I just need to be with you right now."

They're quiet in the back of Ray's car. Since learning that Mike can't be seen, heard, nor touched by people who aren't Harvey, they've been keeping their communications to a bare minimum in front of others. Somehow, it drives Harvey much crazier than it drives Mike. How he could be so at peace with everything, Harvey doesn't know.

They're barely inside the apartment when Harvey's setting his briefcase down and pulling Mike into him, protecting him from the world, and shielding himself from heavy reality all at the same time. "Please, kiss me." He whispers ever so softly, already undoing the buttons of Mike's shirt.

"Don't have to ask me twice." Mike chuckles, brushing his lips against Harvey's before taking them with his own, slowly, pouring too many emotions into him.

SUITS SUITS SUITS

"Harvey."

He nearly hits the ceiling when the voice calls from behind him. "Jesus Christ!" He's standing before he knows it, facing Donna with an expression that gave away the mini heart attack he's still recovering from. Mike doesn't seem to be doing any better, having grabbed onto Harvey's arm the second they'd heard her.

"Sorry." She smirks, walking into his kitchen to poor herself a glass of deliciously rich scotch.

"Remind me why I gave you a key?"

"So that I could come and talk sense into you when you need it." She says pointedly, taking a small sip of the amber liquid without taking her eyes off of him.

"Donna-" he warns, but she hushes him with a wave of her hand.

"Harvey, you _need_ to see him. I called the doctor. They say he isn't getting any better."

The only thing keeping Harvey grounded now is that Mike is leaning into him from behind, playing with his fingers in an attempt to keep them both calm. Harvey squeezes them gently before grabbing onto the hand tightly. "There's something you should know." He says, suddenly much more confident with the situation. Mike seems to have other ideas.

"What's that?" She raises an eyebrow as she walks over to him, taking a seat on the couch and folding one long leg over the other.

"Mike's here."

She blanches for softening her features into a look of careful befuddlement. "What do you mean?"

"Show her." He says over his shoulder after a moment of silence.

"Harvey, I don't think-"

"It's ok."

He feels Mike's sigh against his neck, and almost takes his words back when he feels the other let go of him.

"Harvey, what's going on?" Donna's looking at him like he's escaped from a mental hospital. A clear _did you take your meds _thing going on. He can't help but roll his eyes at her. "Harvey," she begins again, speaking as if he were a small child. "Have you spoken to someone about all this? I know it's stressful-" Her words drain from her as fast as all of her colour. She's looking away from him now, towards the other man who she can't see. Harvey's papers are moving around his coffee table, until a black one is found. The pen moves next, scribbling something down on the paper before it's floating towards her. She can't move. She can barely remember how to breathe when it falls in her lap – having given up on her taking it from him. _I'm here._ Is all it says.

Of course, he should have chosen something a lot less cliché. A lot less ominous and scary movie sounding. Honestly, he could have just stuck to _hi_ or, _let him explain_ or _anything_ other than _that_. But what can you do?

"Oh my god." Her lips tremble almost as bad as her hands while she picks up the paper. "Oh my god, Harvey."

SUITS SUITS SUITS

Harvey returns to his penthouse after putting Donna in a cab, and it takes him only seconds to grab Mike hard, drag him to his bedroom, and demand that he take his clothes off _now_.


End file.
